When the night fell, Imani and his father sat in their small hut eating the kill that Shelia had brought.
"Father," Imani started as his father looked up from his plate. "What….what will you do if I don't return?" He sighed.
Imani was very hesitant to leave his father. He's all he'd known his entire life.
"My son, you must never think ahead of your future, not even the gods can predict what will happen." He claimed as Imani hung his head.
His father spoke the truth, he must not jump ahead. But there was so much uncertainty.
"But to put your mind at ease I will go to the village and live amongst our people again." Imani shot up his head. His father swore he would never go back to the village, especially after what happened to his mother.
She helped the people of Koki-Nori as a healer for many years. She was one of the very best. But when Imani was young, she fell ill. No one would help her or his father.
Not even the king.
While they watched her wither away, his father moved deeper into the territory for her final days to have peace.
"Well, thank you, father. It does give me some peace knowing you will be safe. I must head to bed, I have a long journey ahead of me" Imani says.
After helping clean up dinner, Imani went to pack his bag with Shelia. "Well, I guess this will be one of my last nights of sleeping in our house" he chuckled petting Sheila as she purred and rubbed her head against Imanis' hand.
Blowing out his candle, Imani looked out the small window to see the moon's bright light shining upon him.
He prayed to the gods to keep his father safe while he was away, and drifted off.
As everyone was in a deep slumber. Dark figures began to search Koki-Nori. They would burn out torches as they rushed past all the houses. Cirian appeared looking at the frantic shadows.
Shaking their head, Cirian walked deeper into the forest, knowing exactly where the pure heart was. Giving a sharp screech, he alerted the nearby shadows. All of them began to follow Cirian to the small hut deep in the forest.
"This is where he is'' Ciaran pointed.
All the shadows quietly crept into the house. They spotted was a man sleeping on a mat. Grinning at each other, they figured it was the warrior they were looking for. The shadows began attacking him. Tearing him into a bloody mess. The man never screamed for they cut his throat before taking his bloodied corpse back to the dark realm.
Hoping their master will be pleased. All that was left was claw marks, blood, and Kahnums symbol drawn out in soot.